Battlefield 2142: The America Conflict
by SierraEchoZulu
Summary: As tensions between Europe and Asia build up and eventually cause war, a struggling America faces a civil war. This story follows the intertwining stories of Joel Lincoln, Alex Simmons, and Hannah Jones, in their quest to gain European military support on the homefront. Please review. It means a lot to me.
1. Prologue

"Sudnik!" That was all Simmons was able to scream before the warhead hit the engine of the JLTV.

_Memphis, Tennessee_

_2139_

Commander Joel Lincoln rubbed his temples yet again, trying to relieve some of the stress. It didn't work. It was bad enough that he was stuck in the cramped confines of his command vehicle. Now he had the problem of advancing enemy forces.

"Sir?" One of his subordinates called.

"What is it, Rob?" he replied.

"We just got word that Kappa Convoy was just ambushed and they've engaged with enemy infantry and light armor. Tarcal's pushing east as we speak. We're going to have to bring our forces across the river pretty soon, if you ask me."

"Hell no!" Joel snapped. "If they get the Mississippi, then they can start bringing their shit through the Panama Canal and take it straight to the front lines. We do not want that!"

"Sir, what do you want me to do about Kappa?"

"Task some Intruders to their AO. And I want Condors too, to keep the Wraiths at bay."

"Yes sir."

_West Memphis, Arkansas_

"Simmons! Command just tasked aircraft to our AO! It looks like we will be getting home alive!' Garrett Faraday shouted over the gunfire, as he ducked behind a destroyed car.

Alex Simmons fired his Lambert Carbine again at oncoming Western forces. "That's fucking amazing. How long until they get here?" He shouted.

"Command said five mu's!"

Suddenly, Omar Smitherman's deep voice boomed over the radio. "Get some cover ready, we've got a pair of BTRs inbound!"

_Shit,_ Alex thought. The BTR-2M was a monster of an APC. Straight out of the PAC's surplus, the vehicle was armed with a 25.4mm cannon that fired a multitude of different types of ammunition, including airburst. Alex knew he was dead the moment it detected him.

Thankfully for Alex, the APCs only seemed to be using conventional fragmentation rounds. At least thick enough cover would keep him alive for a while.

"Command, what's the status of our air, over?" Faraday shouted into the radio.

The BTRs moved up, hammering away at the rubble that Alex used for cover.

"Just hold tight, Kappa. Fast air is thirty seconds out, over." The BTRs continued to advance.

"Understood, out." Faraday replied, somewhat relieved. He dropped the radio and began to fire his machine gun again when the BTR's turret swiveled in his direction, sending him back into cover.

"Kappa Two, this is Hawkeye, we're inbound at heading 2-5-3, angels four, ready for tasking, over."

"Thank you, Hawkeye! We have a pair of BTRs laying waste to our forces! We'll mark the target, over." Faraday clicked off the radio and shouted over to Alex. "Get the tracer!"

Alex unhooked from his belt a small, gas-operated weapon that fired a single, 9.75mm tracer beacon that would stick to whatever surface it hit. From there, guided munitions could home in on it and destroy whatever it was attached to. it was better than a laser, as operators could fire once, and, if a direct hit was scored, could remain in cover while waiting for the fireworks. It was made to fire a small projectile so as not to disturb sensors on enemy vehicles or activate Electric Reactive Armor.

He took aim at one of the BTRs and fired it. _Perfect, _he thought. A direct hit.

"Hawkeye, this is Kappa Two, target is marked, I say again, target is marked, over."

"Roger, we see your sparkle. Standby for JTAM. Over."

"Understood. Out."

Alex popped up out of cover and began to fire at more Western infantry, only to be sent back into cover again by the BTR.

"Kappa Two, this is Hawkeye, JTAM away."

The JTAM fell to the ground, homing in on the BTR's tracer beacon. As the JTAM reached ten meters above the beacon and the BTRs, the first phase of the weapon's detonation began, an EMP burst that would permanently fry all electronics within a twenty-meter radius of the warhead and temporarily disable electronics up to 100 meter away. Kappa squad was 150 meters away from the BTR, so they were unharmed by the EMP. This served to defeat any Active-Defense Systems or Electric Reactive Armor that the target may have been carrying.

Just as it was designed, the JTAM fell the rest of the way to the BTR, smashing into the top of the BTR and blowing it into hundreds of pieces, no larger than a square foot.

"Hawkeye here, we heard the target had brought a friend. We're coming in hot. Standby for gun-run, over."

"Understood. We'll be waiting, over."

Soon, Alex heard the sound of TG-5 Intruder III Attack aircraft. Soon enough, a pair of the jets could be seen in the sky behind the enemy forces. They began the strafe run with a barrage of Armor-Piercing rockets, followed by a long burst of AP rounds from their twin rotary cannons. The combined effect of both munitions was enough to disable the second BTR.

"There we are!" Omar shouted.

The enemy infantry, suddenly without armored support, wer then much easier pickings for Kappa squad. Alex popped up out of cover and again, fired his Lambert Carbine at oncoming enemy forces.

Soon, after another ten minutes of fighting, Omar, Faraday, Alex, and most of Kappa squad reigned victorious. Kappa squad suffered two casualties: Micheal, the Anti-Tank specialist, was killed by the Sudnik V at the beginning of the ambush, and Jeremy, a rifleman, who was killed by a cannon round from the rear BTR.

* * *

For the first time that day, Joel smiled. Kappa squad had survived the ambush, creating a bulge in the USGF's lines in West Memphis and stopping the West American Army's advance.

"Well, Joel, looks like Tarcal's not going to cross the Mississippi." Rob said.

"Yes. I'm very impressed by their actions. I'd like to meet them someday."

"Well, you're the Commander of the US Ground Forces."

"Oh, right." Joel chuckled. "Well, let's let them have some rest first." he said. "Driver! Let's go back to base, get some R&R."

"Yes, sir!" The driver was ecstatic about the R&R.

* * *

_The White House_

_The Next Day_

"Mister President?" Ally asked through the ICD.

"Yes, Mrs. Jefferson?" he replied from the confines of the Oval Office.

"You have an incoming video call from the President of the European Union."

"Ah, yes. Patch me through. Also, get Commander Lincoln on as well. We'd like for him to join us."

"Patching you through now, Mister President."

Ally punched a few codes into her computer's keyboard, opening the video call to Benicio Trevisani, the President of the European Union. Meanwhile, a live video feed of the Italian leader, as well as another one of Joel Lincoln, appeared in front of the president on the opposing wall, which doubled as a screen.

"Ah, President Conley! Good morning!" Trevisani warmly greeted him in his Italian accent, a smile on his face.

"Good afternoon, President Trevisani." Jonathan Conley replied. "Commander Lincoln and I would like to talk business today."

"I take it you need help with your civil war?"

"Yes." Lincoln cut in. "Just yesterday, we were able to halt General Tarcal's advance at West Memphis. They were that close to gaining control of the Mississippi." Joel held his hand up, his thumb and finger an inch apart, to try and demonstrate to Trevisani what he meant.

"We know the Pan-Asian Coalition has been supplying Tarcal's army with a hell of a lot of equipment, if you'll excuse my language." Conley added.

"No, no, no, I'd use the same language too if I were in your position. Anyway, if you'll excuse _me_ for one second, I'd like to get my own general online so we can talk war business." Trevisani said. He turned away from the monitor and called out to one of his aides. "Shoshannah! El General Emil Nikoli obtener en el cuerno!"

From somewhere in the room, the aide replied, "Si, Señor Presidente!"

Seconds later, a third box appeared on the President's screen. "Dzień dobry, Panie prezydencie." he said to Trevisani in Polish, his native language. "Good morning, President Conley. Commander Lincoln."

"Good afternoon, General Nikoli." both the president and commander said.

"So, what have I been called for, panie prezydencie?" he asked.

"The Americans are requesting military assistance in their civil war."

"Which ones?" Emil said, chuckling.

"The Easterners." Trevisani replied.

Emil sighed. "Well, if the Americans want assistance- please, do pay attention, Commander Lincoln, President Conley- they must first realize that we ourselves are not on good terms with Asia. We are almost at the brink of war. The ice is continually consuming the Russians, but the rest of Asia is overpopulated. So they want _our _land- land that belongs to the people of _Matka Europa_!"

Trevisani cut in. "We do want to help you overcome the Westerners- especially since the PAC is funding them. In fact, if you were to win with our support, then that would be yet another symbolic blow to the PAC. But we ourselves unfortunately match the PAC's current production rate. We cannot produce enough equipment to completely supply another country as large as yours, as well as ourselves. If we sell too much equipment to you, and we do not keep producing enough for ourselves, then if the PAC invades- which is, by the way, a very likely scenario- then we will be utterly crushed! then you won't _ever _get your support!"

Joel had it. "Dammit, Trevisani! Surely there's something you can do!"

"Quiet, Joel! I'll have you demoted if you make another outburst like that during this meeting, especially aimed at the _President of Europe_!" President Conley snapped.

"Yes, sir." Joel humbly said.

"Now, as I was saying," Nikoli continued, "We cannot permanently donate war machines to you. However, we will be willing to lend you a unit. The German 'Krieg', 2nd Panzer Regiment has been tasked with security at Minsk, Belarus. Their tour is supposed to end on November 30th, when my own 9th Armoured Corps will take over for the job. Once the Krieg's mission in minsk is done, I will have them sent over to the US, and you can expect them to be ready for combat and deployment onto the frontlines by December 4th. Apart from them, I will contact Commander Francois Guilmette and try to persuade him to lend you some units from the Valkyrie and Hell Brigades."

"That sounds quite nice." Joel said. "We appreciate your concern for and cooperation with us."

"You're quite welcome." Nikoli said. "Your reinforcements will hopefully arrive on the December the 2nd or 3rd, aboard the EBT _Queen Elizabeth_. General Emil Nikoli, out."

The box containing Emil winked out of existence.

"I am sorry, President Conley, but I must go. I have a meeting with the head of Austria."

"You're fine, President Trevisani," Conley said, "We've already discussed what I think is most important for today."

"I'm glad you understand. President Benicio Trevisani, out." Trevisani said, before his box disappeared as well.

Now, only Joel was left, and his box expanded until it filled the entire screen.

"Well, Mister President, I guess we will get our support after all." Joel said, somewhat relieved. Conley's face showed no trace of a smile.

"Don't count on it, Joel." Conley replied, before he logged off. Joel's video feed was replaced by a light blue screen, the black letters, **'CALL ENDED'** filling the center of the screen.


	2. Invasion

_Kharkiv, Ukraine_

"This is Kharkiv Air Command! We have a situation!" The Ukrainian Colonel shouted frantically into the radio.

_Aboard the EBT_ Queen Elizabeth,_ in England, European Union_

The intercom system projected the Colonel's words into the cabin of Sir Lieutenant Marshal Derek Lanchester of the European Union Army. Lanchester picked up the radio, replying, "This is Sir Marshal Lanchester, what is the nature of your problem?"

"Enemy forces are attacking the airfield! We are being overrun as we speak!"

"What enemy forces, over?" Lanchester inquired, his voice as hard as steel.

"Pan-Asians! The Pan-Asians are invading Ukraine! There's a pair of _Kirov_-class Titans that's pinning our forces down!

_Shite_, thought Lanchester. "We will attempt to send backup, out!" He immediately decided to check up on some of the other major military stations between the EU and PAC.

"Fort Masada, this is Sir Lieutenant Marshal Derek Lanchester of the EU 10th Airborne Division, what is your status, over?"

"This is General Doron Bashevis of the Israeli Central Command! The PAC has sent troops into Israel and they are pushing forward! Our forces cannot fight back against such an overwhelming force!"

"We understand that there is a situation. We have gotten a similar report from another Airbase in Ukraine. Hold them off as long as you can, over!"

The intercom rang again. Two- then three- then four- then five calls, from Helsinki Naval Command, Mogadishu Titan base, Vilnius Army base, and even one from Darwin Sea Command.

It took a second for the grimness and reality of the situation to hit him.

"DAMN IT!" Lanchester screamed out loud. He took a second to get control of himself. Then he got to work.

"Gregory!" he shouted into the intercom. Seconds later, the associate in question ran into the room.

"Yes, sir?"

"I hope you got the news."

"What news, sir?"

"The god-damned PAC is invading! They've hit Karkiv, Tel Aviv, Mogadishu, Darwin, Helsinki, Vilnius, everywhere!"

"Damn..."

"Listen to me. The PAC's no doubt going to hit Minsk very, very soon. The Second Panzer Regiment is stationed there. They are to defend the city at all costs!"

"Sir, yes sir!"

* * *

_Minsk, Belarus_

"Hurry up! Move your arses!" The _schweinhunds_ aren't going to wait for our tanks!" German Major Heinrich Romer barked to all the tank crews.

Friedrich von Kluge hurried as fast as he could to load the A-7 Puma with as many HETW shells as it could hold. He had counted fifty-five shells. Half-way there.

Five minutes later, he was at eighty-one shells.

Another five minutes: 107 shells. Three left.

After the final three had been loaded, he spoke up. "Sir Major! Our shells are loaded!"

"Well, what are you waiting for! Get into your tank and join those who actually worked with diligence!"

"Yes, sir." Friedrich climed into the hatch of his tank and powered up the electronics.

Thanks to 22nd century technology, a tank only needed to seat two to be fully operational. The driver's job was to, well, drive the tank, but he also had access to a Mortar launcher built into the turret that could be used if they tank remained stationary, so that the driver wouldn't be pressured with doing both tasks at the same time. The gunner sat next to the driver at the front of the tank and controlled both the Main turret, which had access to a 132mm Anti-Tank weapon and a 20mm Anti-infantry Co-axial cannon, and a third weapon, an 8mm machine gun mounted on top of the main turret that swiveled on it's own. The guns loaded themselves through special robotics technology, allowing the regular number of people in a tank to be halved. The newly-gained space could be used to store either more ammunition, gasoline, or create larger crew compartments for more comfortable conditions while driving, depending on the variant of the Puma.

"Jorg! Get in here!" Friedrich shouted.

Jorg Mueller was Friedrich's driver. The two had worked with each other for over 15 years. They knew eachother better than brothers.

Jorg climbed into the tank and started the engine. "So, what are we up against?" Jorg asked.

"Sir angry-pants said that there are BTR-4s, UAZ-8 Ocelots, the usual stuff."

Jorg chuckled.

"Meh, that's kinda boring. Anything interesting?"

"He also mentioned T-39 Bogatyrs."

Jorg's eyes lit up at that moment. "Now that's what I call a fight!"

"Don't get so happy. We're also up against two _Kirov_-class Titans: the PAT _Vorschevsky _and _Noskov_, as well as two _Wuhan-_class Titans, the PAT _Kim Jong-Il _and _Mao Tse-tung._"

Jorg grimaced. "Great. I hope we have something of our own."

"Yes. The EBT _Queen Elizabeth,_ EFT _Bastille,_and EST _Isabella of Castile_ are due here within a few hours. The entire _Napoleon Bonaparte _battlegroup has just departed from Barcelona to aid in the battle as well."

Jorg began to say something, before the radio interrupted him.

"This is Argon One. All units report in." Major Romer said over the radio.

"This is Argon Two, rolling smooth."

"Argon Three , ready for action."

"Argon Four here."

Friedrich's callsign was Argon Five. "Mister angry-pants," he said to Jorg, before clicking on the radio. "Argon Five, reporting in."

The last three tanks sounded off, before the Major issued his orders. "All units, fall in with Oxide convoy."

Jorg followed the major's orders, following the major's tank until the entire column blended in with Oxide convoy, a long line of AMV-2 Groundhog APCs, all carrying the German war flag. Friedrich opened the top of the tank and looked up to see a trio of US-built UD-12 Shepherds fly past. They kept flying towards city center. Suddenly, a bright blue streak flashed through the sky, striking the lead Shepherd's right engine and sending it spinning out of control. The two remaining Shepherds broke off in separate directions as an entire squadron of PAC Type 4 Doragons flew overhead in straight-flight mode, their gunners taking pot-shots at the convoy with their cannons. Friedrich quickly ducked down nd shut the hatch.

"Argon One, this is Argon Five, do we have permission to engage enemy aircraft?" Friedrich spoke into the radio.

"Negative! Negative! We are ill-equipped to take on gunships! Those schweinhunds will be easy pickings for our Anti-Air emplacements!"

As if on cue, Anti-Aircraft fire erupted from atop one of the skyscrapers, sending the PAC gunship crashing into the streets below.

Jorg seemed satisfied enough. Friedrich opened the hatch once more. He looked around, watching as the APCs unloaded their troops, each and every one of the soldiers bearing the logo of the Valkyrie Brigade on his helmet.

The radio squawked again. "All units, this is Argon One, break formation, we have reports of enemy units in the area."

"Yeah!" Jorg shouted. "Let's get those bastards!"

"Yes, Jorg, it's time for some- dare I say it- _fun_." Friedrich replied, as he shut the hatch once more.

"Oh, damn you Friedrick, you party-pooper!" Jorg retorted.

Friedrich sighed and shook his head. He understood that Jorg was joking, but he honestly didn't want to be here, cramped in the front of his A7 tank in Minsk during the PAC invasion. He wanted to be back at home with his wife, Eva, and his beloved children. For a second, he imagined just that. For a few seconds, he was at his home in Frankfurt. None of this was happening. None of it.

"Ocelots!" Jorg exclaimed. "Acquiring..." Friedrich snapped out of his trance.

Jorg swiveled the tank's turret with the right-side joystick in his seat until the muzzle of the tank's main barrel was aimed at the front of the UAZ-8 Ocelot. Jorg had to keep the turret moving to the right to stay on track with the Ocelot.

"Firing!" Jorg said, as he squeezed his right index finger on the trigger of the riight joystick, which activated the 20mm machine gun, sending a deadly burst of explosive rounds into the windshield of the Ocelot.

"Engaging the second one now!" Jorg said. He aimed the cannon at the second one. The Ocelot's gunner made a futile effort of trying to destroy the tank with the Ocelot's MMG. It did nothing.

Jorg pressed his right thumb down on the Joystick's red button. This fired the 132mm main gun, sending a High Explosive-Tandem Warhead shell into the side of the Ocelot, decimating it. The only salvagable wreckage was the left-rear wheel.

Friedrick opened his hatch to get some fresh air. He looked around and saw a pair of BTR-4 Romanovs.

"Jorg! Romanov just came knocking!" Friedrich exclaimed, quickly shutting the hatch as Jorg began to swivel the turret again.

When the Romanov entered Jorg's viewport, he added, "And he brought some little friends, too!" as he noticed that the Romanovs were unloading their troops. The Romanov's gunners subsequently unloaded it's 35mm grenade launcher on the A7, slowly eating away it's frontal NxRA.

Jorg was about to open fire on the BTR-4 when suddenly, a pair of Cyclone EH3 strike aircraft screamed past, unloading Armor-Piercing & EMP Rockets on the Romanovs, setting both ablaze.

"Well, that solves that problem." Friedrich said.

"It damn does! I'm engaging the infantry with the 8-mil!" Jorg shouted, much to Friedrich's dismay.

Two of the infantrymen carried Sudnik VPs. "Shit, we've got Sudniks!' Friedrich exclaimed.

"Got it!" Jorg said. He used his left hand to control the left joystick, which operated the 8mm MMG.

He squeezed his left index finger on the trigger, firing the 8mm MMG. It tore through the PAC troopers' body armor.

"Going for the second one!"

He aimed the MMG at the soldier. The soldier fired his Sudnik VP, missing the turret to the right.

"Shit, Jorg! Get the bastard!" Friedrich swore.

Jorg fired on the second Sudnik wielder before he could get off another shot.

"All main threats neutralized. I might as well mop up."

Jorg switched to the main turret and fired his main gun into the enemy forces, as well as the 20mm.

About a minute later, all of the infantry had been killed.

Friedrich clicked on his radio. "Argon One, this is Argon Five, we have engaged and destroyed two enemy Ocelots, as well as multiple Romanov dismounts."

"Understood. What about the Romanovs themselves?"

"Damn Cyclones got them before we could."

"Roger that. Proceed to engage any targets of opportunity. Out."

"Well. I hope we're done here." Friedrich said, before he sighed again.

"Not quite- Enemy Bogatyr spotted!" Jorg yelled. "Opening fire on it now!"

Jorg's thumb pressed down on the joystick's main button. This was used to fire the main cannon.

Just as Jorg fired the cannon, the Bogatyr activated it's Active Defence System, which created a forcefield around the walker, similar to the one created around a Titan, but much, much weaker.

"_Schweinhund!_" Jorg shouted, as the 132mm shell harmlessly slammed into the Bogatyr's forcefield.

Friedrich backed the tank up as the Bogatyr started sending it's rockets downrange towards the tank. Twice, a rocket struck the tank, shaking it, but the Non-Explosive Reactive Armour prevented the rockets from doing any damage to the tank.

"Friedrich! I'm going to deplete the shield with the 20mm!" Jorg said.

"You do that!" Friedrich responded.

Jorg squeezed the joystick's trigger with his index finder, firing the 20mm cannon at the Bogatyr. This depleted the shield fairly quickly.

"Brace yourself!" Jorg said as the Bogatyr fired another volley of rockets. Instinctively, Friedrick threw the tank into reverse. "That walker isn't going to get us today!"

"And they won't get us tomorrow either. Now steady, steady!" Jorg called out, as he pushed the joystick from left to right to try and get the perfect shot on the T39's cockpit. "Firing!" Jorg said. The shell fired, just barely missing the Bogatyr to the right. "Damn it, Friedrich! I told you to steady the Puma!"

Friedrich silently acknowledged him, stopping the tank.

"Alright, this one's for real. I make this shot, you owe me 75 Euros." Jorg said, as he put the money down on the small tray that sat between him and Friedrich.

"And if you miss," Friedrich replied, "Then I get the 75 Euros." he continued, as he placed his own money on the tray, making 150 Euros.

"Here we go." Jorg said. Unbeknownst to Friedrich, he had loaded a guided shell.

Just as Jorg yelled "Firing!", Friedrich floored the accelerator in an effort to deliberately make him miss. However, since the munition was guided, it immediately corrected course and slammed into the front of the Bogatyr, blowing it in half. The legs remained upright for a few seconds before they came crashing down with enough force to crush a man.

"How the-" Friedrich started.

"What?" Jorg said. "I guess I was just lucky."

"Damn." Friedrich was about to hand Jorg the money when he noticed his HDD display: '**-Guided Shell - Loaded-**'

"Damn you, Jorg!" Friedrich shouted. "Damn cheater!"

"What? Like you didn't try to deliberately throw me off target? That would've saved the lives of the Bogatyr crew, who probably would've killed us."

"Fair enough." Friedrich muttered, putting the money in Jorg's outstretched hand.


	3. Sabotage

_Aboard the UST Campbell_

"The support's been cancelled? For fuck's sake, we _need_ that support!" Joel shouted. He was quick to lose his temper, but not so quick to regain it.

"I am sorry, Commander Lincoln. The PAC has invaded multiple neutral countries that border the EU, deliberately attacking the European military. Our forces are holding off the attacks at key cities, including Amman, Ankara, Kiev, Minsk, and Vilnius. Your planned support, three regiments of Valkyrie Brigadiers and the Krieg 2nd Regiment, are holed up in Minsk right now, locked in combat with the PAC's First Army. If they control Minsk, then they can task more forces to other combat zones. With each city that falls, the next one will simply be easier for them to take!" replied Sir Marshal Lanchester, whose face, along with those of US Generals Jacob Langley and Marissa Stewart, and European Generals Emil Nikoli, Francois Guilmette, and Sigmund Hernandez were projected onto the wall in front of Joel.

General Hernandez cut in. "Less than an hour ago, Alena Voroshilov, one of the PAC's Co-Premiers, just announced on live television that the PAC had declared war on _Madre Europa._ We are officially at war with Asia. As Emil has told you many times, we really do hope for the best of America, and that you overcome your civil war. We want to help you. But we cannot, because if we try to help you, then Asia will destroy us even more quickly!"

Langley replied, "Your combined army, navy, and air force personnel add up to over 300 million! Surely you could send at least 5,000 troops over here!"

Guilmette replied. "Yes, we do have 300 million personnel- versus the PAC's armed forces, which are _one billion _strong! One billion!"

There was a long silence.

Joel could only think in his head, _Damn you Euros. You promise us support and then break that promise the moment your shit hits the fan._

Finally, Emil broke the silence. "General Marissa."

"Yes?"

"You are the leader of the intelligence department of the United States Armed Forces, is that correct?"

"Yes, General Nikoli."

"Here is what I have in mind. We want you to spy on the PAC for us. If your spy can report back to you with troop positions, strengths, and movements, and you relay the information to us, we will have a better chance of driving out the invaders from the soil of _Matka Europa_. If we can get more progress done that way, then we may be able to free up a unit to send to America."

Joel's frown turned into a look of interest, although not at all cheerful or happy.

"Also, keep in mind that since the PAC is at war, they are going to need more equipment for themselves. Therefore, I predict a decline in PAC support to West America. They may even cease support to West America."

Joel spoke up again. "Well, that seems all well and fair. I wish to confer with my two generals in private for a few moments."

"Not a problem." Commander Guilmette responded.

"I don't mind." Hernandez said.

"Well, thank you." Langley replied.

"Actually," Marshal Lanchester began, "I'd rather that-"

"Yes, Americans. Carry on." Emil interrupted. Sir Marshal Lanchester seemed disgraced, by the look on his face.

Joel tapped a few buttons on his desk, and a new window opened up on his screen, showing the list of people in the video conference. He selected his two generals, Marissa Stewart and Jacob Langley, and with a few clicks of a button, the list disappeared their boxes once again showed on the screen.

"Marissa." Joel began.

"Yes, Commander?"

"I quite like Emil's plan. I'd like to know your two cents on his proposal."

"I have no problem with what he said." Marissa replied.

"And you, Jacob?" Joel continued.

"Hey, if it gets us our support, then I'm all for it."

"Good. Then it's settled." A few more buttons pushed on his keypad, and he was back to the main room, with the European Generals. "General Nikoli." Joel began.

"General Lincoln. I take it you've decided on my proposal?"

"We have. We are in favor of your proposed plan of action."

"I'm glad you see it my way, Commander."

Emil Nikolai's box disappeared, followed by that of Lanchester's, then Hernandez's, and finally Guilmette's.

"Well, Marissa, I hope you've got someone up for the job." Joel said.

"I'll find someone." she replied, a smirk across her face.

* * *

_Twentynine Palms, West America_

The guard inspected the car all around. The vehicle was a GAZ-93, intended for transport and light-attack purposes. In this case, it was used for transport, delivering a batch of PAC-manufactured Malkov R11 PDWs.

"You're clear. Proceed." the guard said. The vehicle slowly drove on through the checkpoint.

Neither the occupants of the vehicle, nor the guard who inspected the vehicle, or anyone in the base, for that matter, knew that a certain Hannah Jones, an expert in infiltration and espionage who worked for the US Intelligence Department, was clinging to the underside of the vehicle.

_How much I would give for some camo,_ she thought. She had heard the stories, the reports of the PAC's IT-33 Camouflage, which could decrease the user's visibility by as much as 90%. She wished she had one of those, instead of having to cling to the underside of a car. Luckily, she was wearing a suit similar to what the European soldiers wore, although made of special materials to make it significantly lighter and quieter, as well as giving her a great deal of extra strength. She was thankful for it. Without it, she would've let go three miles back and either have been left behind, run over, or spotted by the convoy, who would've shot her. Also incorporated into the suit was a scrambler, which was how she was able to bypass the scanners embedded in the concrete.

The car stopped. She felt the door open and heard the soldiers get out of the car.

"Yeah. Let's get this crate to the armory. Captain Smith said he wanted that done before anything else."

"I can't stand him."

"Yeah, well he's the boss."

"Fine."

Hannah heard the two soldiers lift the crate and carry it away. Finally, she lowered herself. _Easy now..._

She touched the dirt. Quickly looking around, she noticed a third soldier, guarding the GAZ.

She had one of two options. She could try to take out the guard or sneak past him. If she tried to sneak past him, she ran the risk of being caught by the guard. Take him out, then they might find the body.

She decided to take him out. She reached out and tapped his boot.

"Huh?" the guard turned around and looked under the vehicle. Just as planned. She grabbed him by the head, making sure to cover his mouth, and pulled him under the vehicle, before she withdrew her Bulgarian BJ-1 Combat Blade and thrust it into the man's jugular vein and twisted the knife. This killed him almost instantly. _Simpleton,_ she thought. _I'm surprised you even got into the_ _military_.

Then she got to work to stop the bleeding. She didn't need a trail of blood to give her away instantly. She pulled out a bag and covered the wound with it, sticking it in place with a special epoxy.

Finally, she rolled the body out from under the vehicle before rolling herself out as well. She picked up the body and carried it over her shoulders to a nearby shipping crate. She dumped the body inside a small plastic crate within the larger crate and then snuck back out. By the time they found the body, she would be back in Washington DC. For extra measure, she rigged the inside of the crate with RDX explosive.

_First thing's first,_ she thought. She had been given a map of the base. She looked up and around the base, trying to figure out where she was.

_There._ She was next to the secondary helipad. She knew now that she had to go north to get to the command

Soon enough, Hannah was a mere fifty feet away from the command center, where her objective, to retrieve a file with a list of shipments due from the PAC within the next three months. She hid behind a tank and watched as a woman soldier of about the same build as her, in a Lieutenant's uniform and wearing the West American Army's signature Red Beret, exited a BTR-2M. "God, that has to be one of the worst experiences of my life!" she exclaimed to a nearby soldier, a southern accent clearly present in her voice.

"Ah, don't worry, Lieutenant Sylvester. Juno's going to take you back home. They operate Gaz's, so you'll have a much smoother ride."

"Thank the Lord! Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to grab the shipment lists."

Hannah's eyes lit up at that moment. _Perfect. She can get them for me. But once she does, I need to be quick._

Hannah peered over the tank once more. None of the soldiers were watching the woman.

Silently, she crept along the side of the wall, making her way towards the door. Lieutenant Sylvester entered the code to go inside the command complex, then made her way inside. Hannah quickly went inside as well before the doors shut.

Hannah, once inside, hid behind a crate. Even though Sylvester's back was turned, Hannah didn't want to take any chances.

She peered over at Sylvester. She began to walk towards the woman's bathroom. As she pushed open the door, she stopped. "I can wait." she said, before she continued.

_Yes you can,_ Hannah thought. She took a second to come up with a plan in her head. _Aha!_

She waited until Sylvester rounded the corner, then she dashed for the bathroom. There were four stalls. She hid in the one farthest from the bathroom door.

On her suit, she engaged a special vision mode that combined X-Rays with IR waves, allowing her to detect other people from behind thin objects. One person came and went. That person was of no interest to Hannah.

Then, Sylvester came, files in hand. Hannah watched through the stalls as she set the files on the counter.

After a few seconds, Sylvester walked out of the stall. Now was Hannah's time to act. She drew from her holster a C-3 Stallion semi-automatic handgun with an integrated suppressor, walked out, and pressed the gun against Sylvester's neck. "You'll do as I say. Not a word will be spoken." Hannah said, her voice as cold as steel. "I'll take those." she continued, snatching the files from the counter. Sylvester raised her arms in compliance.

"Your uniform. I want it." Hannah said. Sylvester began to undress, as did Hannah. Minutes later, Hannah was in the uniform of a West American Military Lieutenant, and Sylvester was in the body-glove that Hannah previously wore under her suit.

"Now, it's time to hide you. Hands behind your back." Hannah said again, motioning with her hand towards the cabinet under the sink.

"Why are you doing this?" Sylvester whispered, fear in her voice.

"Because I know the moment I let you go, you'll give me away to base security. I'll be captured and shot. Also, you deserve this, for being traitorous to the USA."

"I was born here! I never knew the east!" Sylvester exclaimed quietly, as she began to tear up.

"Well, that's just a shame, isn't it?"

"Please, don't! I have a family to take care of!" Sylvester pleaded, practically sobbing.

"No." Hannah said. She finally wrenched Sylvester's arms behind her back and tied them there. Then, she tied her ankles together. Finally, she ripped some of Sylvester's pant leg off and stuffed it in her mouth, then taping her mouth shut. Sylvester tried to scream, but all attempts to draw attention failed. Hannah shoved her into the cabinet and shut the door, taping the handles together.

She had finally dealt with Sylvester and retrieved the files. Finally, she stuffed the rest of her gear, including the suit, into the trash can, armed some Thermite and stuffed it into the can as well, and then covered the top with paper towels. She held on to her Combat Blade and her C-3.

She walked out of the bathroom, and subsequently the building, as if nothing ever happened.

She walked up to a GAZ-93, the same one that she had used to infiltrate the base.

"Ah, Miss Lieutenant Sylvester!" an African-American soldier standing by the vehicle said, his voice quite deep.

"Good evening, Captain, uhh," Hannah had to read the name, "Smith."

"Same to you, Miss Sylvester. Didn't they say you had a southern accent?"

_Damn!_ Hannah thought. She hadn't thought they would know.

"Nope, you must be confused with somebody else." Hannah said, hoping it would convince him.

"No, command said that she had a really thick country accent. The probably messed up."

"Maybe."

"Come on, let's get you home."

"Yes, please!"

Smith hopped into the driver's seat, with one of his soldiers manning the 8.3mm machine gun. Even in peacetime, the WA Army's VIP transports were armed with a machine gun to display power. Hannah put her things by the other soldier's feet in the back and hopped in the passenger seat.

The drive was relatively uneventful. Once they got to the street where the real Sylvester lived, Captain Smith nodded to Hannah, saying, "This is your stop, right?"

"Yes, Captain."

"Well, I do hope to see you again sometime soon. It's been a pleasure to help you."

"Thank you."

Hannah got out and got her things. As she shut the door, she attached a pack of RDX to the side. As she began to walk away, she turned back and, as was tradition for women in the WA Army, tipped her beret and curtsied to the soldiers. Smith returned the gesture of respect with the West American Military salute, bumping his heart with his right arm and then raising it in the air. The other soldier did the same.

After the car drove off, Hannah listened to some of the radio chatter in her earpiece for a second. Suddenly, someone screamed, "I found someone under the women's bathroom sink in the command center! She says she's one of us!" followed by, "We have an intruder!" Hannah pulled out the RDX remote, hitting the center button. She heard a loud explosion, the GAZ-93 exploding, followed by a distant boom. They wouldn't get ahold of any of her gear. She then dialed the earpiece into the USID frequency, saying "This is Spectre, I've retrieved the package. I've lost my suit and and am now in enemy colors. Coordinates are as follows: Thirty-four degrees, twenty-eight minutes north, one-hundred-sixteen degrees and seven minutes west, over."

"Spectre, this is the Center, we have your coordinates. Exfil is on the way, over."


	4. Insertion: Part One

**PART ONE**

* * *

_Aboard the UST _Brookerson

Once again, Hannah Jones sat in the only seat in General Marissa Stewart's office aboard the UST _Brookerson, _one of the _Washington-_class Titans, the only class in the US Navy's arsenal. She was in standard non-combat military dress, which consisted of MARPAT-style blouse and trousers. Sitting behind the desk she faced was General Stewart herself, in a general's ceremonial clothing.

"Good morning, Mrs. Jones." Marissa began. "I take it your mission went well?"

"Yes, ma'am." Hannah replied.

"Well, I must say that I am very proud of you."

"Thank you, ma'am."

"Listen. I must ask of you a very big favor. If you accept it, then this mission will be one of the longest you have ever carried out."

"Yes! Anything to get back at the traitorous bastards!"

"Calm down. I'm not asking you to infiltrate West America- at least, in the long run, they're not the targets. I am asking you to infiltrate the PAC. I want you to uncover as much as you can- experiments, weapons, troop numbers and formations, anything."

"Okay, ma'am. But why us? We're not at war with the PAC."

"The Europeans weren't very successful in trying to infiltrate and spy on the Asians. But we have a better chance. As you most likely know, private journalism is very common in Western America, and there are numerous private journalist from West America who live and work in foreign countries. That's your cover, by the way. An aspiring West American journalist working in the PAC. Such people are common, and it would be the perfect way to infiltrate the country."

"You still haven't answered my question- ma'am."

"I'm saying," Marissa paused, "That because you have a good cover, you'll be able to infiltrate them much more easily and get the Europeans' job done for them. And before you ask why we're doing their job, we've made a deal with them. We give them intelligence- we get our long-promised frontline support."

"Well, that's a game-changer."

"It is. Now, are you willing to carry this mission out?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Very well. I will get you in touch with a Private Journalist so that you may know some of what goes on in the business. I will also contact Emil Nikoli and notify him that you have accepted the mission."

"Yes, ma'am."

Hannah stood up and saluted, before exiting the room. Marissa turned her swivel chair to face the other end of the room, and began to open a video call to General Emil Nikoli.

* * *

_Pascagoula NAS - January, 2140_

"Gentlemen. I'm glad you could make it. I have a mission of the utmost importance. What you are about to do today- it paves the way for everything that follows." General Jacob Langley lectured to the men of Kappa Squad.

Alex Simmons, in full combat gear and only missing the weapons, sat and listened.

"No disrespect, sir," Christian Hallows, the Designated Marksman of the squad called out in his New York accent, "But just what the hell are we doing?"

"What we are doing, Corporal Hallows, is helping a spy infiltrate Asia. Her mission is to uncover every secret the PAC has. this'll help the Euros out over at their place, maybe enough that they may be able to free up a regiment or two to send over here. Today, the first part of her mission begins."

"So why are we going to New Orleans? Shouldn't we head to Hong Kong or Korea somewhere like that?" Alex spoke up.

"Her cover is as a Private Journalist from West America working in Asia. So we're going to sneak her into West America, and she'll catch a jet to Asia. Our cover for this mission is a raid on a convoy carrying ammo and supplies. Once the spy is infiltrated, catch up to the convoy and stop it. Loot whatever you can find and blow the rest.

"Now listen to me, all of you. Her safety, as well as her secrecy, is of the utmost importance. I want you, gentlemen, to guard her with your life. The outcome of this war is dependant upon your actions today. As you head into battle, keep this in mind. Dismissed."

One by one, the men of Kappa squad filed out of the building, heading to the armory to get their equipment.

Once there, the guard signaled, alowing Kappa squad into the building. Once inside, they traveled through a dimly lit corridor, opening the door on the right and entering the 'rifle room'. This room was where most small arms were held.

After entering the rifle room, Alex scanned the walls, examining each weapon carefully. Eventually, he settled on a SCAR-11 Rifle, the newest in the US's arsenal. He also chose to take a few european-made PK-74 rifle rockets. After that, he got ammo for each of his weapons.

Lastly, he retrieved ammo for his personal sidearm, a Springfield XD pistol. Many argued that 21st-century weapons such as his had become obsolete, that they had no place on the modern battlefield. Alex disagreed.

After fetching a few Frag and EMP grenades, he decided to wait, watching the others get their weapons. Omar and Harper, the squad's support gunners, both grabbed an M53 LMG off the wall. Hallows scanned the wall, before picking out a Lambert Carbine and an SK-3 Semi-Automatic sniper rifle. Faraday chose another SCAR-11, but also took a Clark 3A shotgun. Calhoun, the squad's new AT specialist, grabbed a Vector Mk7 SMG, as well as the FDM-308 MPAW Rocket Launcher. The other two, Abbot and Pyle, both took the USGF's standard issue SCAR-7 rifle.

After the squad members had picked out their weaponry, they filed out of the rifle room, down the corridor, and out of the buolding into the courtyard, where four JLTVs awaited them. Each JLTV was armed with a devastating Barrett .338 HMG, remotely controlled from inside the vehicle. For the puropse of this mission, these JLTVs were also specially modified to carry an Active Hardkill System, utilizing technology based off of the Isreli Trophy system to defeat missiles. It was very effective, but not as advanced as the Active Defence Shields used by the EU and PAC. Still, it had the speed and abbility to stop a tank shell.

Faraday began to bark orders to the two squads. "Alright! Theta squad, you take the two front vehicles, we'll take the back two. The spy will be in the third vehicle. Hallows, Pyle, you'll be driving. Harper, Abbot, man the MGs. Simmons, you're with the spy. Load the vehicles!" With that, everyone entered the JLTVs.

Hannah got in the middle seat in the back, the most protected seat in the vehicle. To her left sat Harper, his eyes pressed to the screen of the MG's console as he powered it up, and to her right sat Alex, his SCAR-11 laid on his lap. Hallows sat in the driver's seat and Faraday in the passenger seat.

"Alright," Faraday spoke into his radio, "Let's get this show on the road!" With that, Hallows hit the ignition, and the vehicle rumbled to life.

The first fifteen minutes were uneventful.

"Hello." Hannah said to Alex, after another fifteen minutes passed.

"Hello, ma'am." Alex replied, trying to be as professional as possible.

"I'm Hannah Elizabeth Jones, United States Intelligence Department."

"Sergeant Alexander Ricardo Simmons, US Ground Forces."

"Nice. may I ask how many tours of duty you've been in?"

"This is my third. My first was way up north, right near the Canadian border, in the Dakota area. Second was in the Carribean, when the Westies tried to come in through Cuba."

"I see. I'm just called whenever I'm needed It's nice that I don't have to spend months away from my family, but it's frustrating, too. You never know when you'll be called out next, and you're never told where you're going until the last minute. The work is pretty interesting, though. I've seen the Golden Gate Bridge and the Hoover Dam. I don't always get to sightsee, though."

"Nice. I've seen the Gateway Arch."

"I thought that collapsed?"

"It did. One of the pieces nearly crushed the APC I was in."

"Damn."

Faraday spoke up. "Simmons, enough talking. We're approaching the AO."

"Yes, sir." Alex replied.

"Scanning for targets." Harper called out, switching his video feed from Optical to Infra-Red.

Faraday's radio suddenly beeped. "Theta One here, we're getting some strange disturbances in our sector, could be an enemy vehicle. Recommend you activate the HVI's shie-"

The second JLTV in the convoy blew up. It's wreckage was then pushed out of the way by a West American tank, armed with a railgun for it's main cannon.

"Shit! Harper, get that active defense system online, now!"

"Sir, it needs to power up!"

"I don't care, activate it now!"

Hallows shouted, "It's aiming at us!"

"Shield online in five..." Harper began to count down.

The tank began to focus a laser on the vehicle.

"Four.."

"Tell Pyle to back his shit up!" Hallows shouted.

"Three..."

The tank began charging the railgun, visible from the sides of the barrel, which were slowly glowing brighter.

"Two..."

The tank's gun finished charging.

"One..."

Hannah screamed as the tank fired it's railgun.

The projectile blew up in front of the vehicle.

"Lady and gentlemen, the Hardkill system is online." Harper said.

"Damnit Harper, that was too close." Hallows yelled.

"Just be lucky we lived."

"Guys, there's still a tank there!" Alex shouted.

Faraday barked into the radio. "Pyle! Back up! There's a tank!"

The rear JLTV backed up and sped away. Hallows quickly did the same before the tank fired again.

"Maybe we should ditch the JLTVs?" Alex suggested.

"Good call." Faraday replied.


	5. Insertion: Part Two

**PART TWO**

* * *

_Outside New Orleans, Louisiana_

The JLTV came to a stop in an alley. "Get out, get out!" Faraday shouted. Three of the four doors opened, and out came Faraday, Halllows, Alex, and Hannah. "Harper, stay with the vehicle!" he continued, and Harper remained inside on the machine gun.

"Kappa Five, this is Kappa Four, we've dismounted our JLTV and we are on foot with the package, over. We're going to try and get to a residential area, over." Hallows shouted into the radio.

"Understood. Don't hit any civilians, over." Omar replied through the radio.

"Alright, Miss Jones. we're going to push through a residential area. We're debating burning down a house so you can say you lost your house."

"Okay." she replied.

"Team, secure that building! Simmons, take point." Faraday ordered.

Hallows stood against the wall opposite the hinges of the back door to the building. Then, with all his force, he slammed the butt of his rifle against the door, nearly knocking the door off its hinges. He quickly swung back behind the wall, and Alex stepped through into what appeared to be a bakery kitchen, sweeping the room for any hostiles. None were found. "Clear!" The others stepped through.

"I'm taking point." Faraday said, as he opened another door, leading out to the counter of the bakery. "Clear." The others stepped through.

The ground began to rumble. "Shit. Hide!" Hallows said quickly.

"Why?" Alex asked.

"Just do it!" Hallows said, as he hid behind one of the display cases. Alex hid around one corner of the main door, Hannah hid around the other side. Faraday laid down on the ground just underneath the main window.

"This better be good..." Faraday warned.

"And it is. Enemy tank!" Hallows whispered.

The squad waited for the tank to pass.

"This is Kappa Five, Group Two has linked up with what's left of Theta. We have eyes on an enemy MBT just outside a Bakery, over."

"Kappa copies," Faraday said, "We are inside the bakery, over."

Suddenly, the tank's turret began to swivel towards the bakery. "Shit!" Alex screamed. "Kappa Six, we need that MBT down now!"

"Working on it!" Calhoun said through the radio. "There we go, lock acheived! Missile away!"

The missile streaked upwards, looped around, and hit the top of the tank, setting the tank on fire, destroying most of the inside of the tank, and killing the crew.

"Good effect on target. Nice work, Six." Hallows said.

"Thank you. We're coming to you."

* * *

"Hey. See that? Residential area." Omar said. "What do we do now? How do we get her in?"

"Damn it. I should've thought this through." Faraday said.

"I have an idea. We get close to the river and we drop her off, and she can hide wherever until midnight. I know the Westies have a ferry service on the river. Overnight, she can cross the bridge and hide wherever until dawn, when the thing opens. From there, she takes a ferry to another part of town, gets a hotel room, and does whatever until she has to catch her plane to Asia."

"I like it." Hannah said.

"Well, if you agree with it, then I guess I have no choice but to do it." Faraday said. "Alright, let's go. Squads, on me!"

The team ran West, making sure to take cover from the occasional tank or hovercraft patrol. Soon enough, they were one block east of the river. "Well, this is it, I guess." she said.

"I believe so. It was good meeting you." Faraday said, extending his hand. Hannah brought hers up too and they shook hands. Hannah next extended hers to Alex. Alex shook her hand as well. She then shook the hands of each of the other soldiers, before running off to get into position.

"Alright. Soldiers, get back to your vehicles! We still need to hit that supply convoy!"

* * *

Alex opened the door to the JLTV and quickly got back in. "Did ya miss us, Harper?" Alex asked.

"I heard explosions." Harper repliad.

"Yeah. Damn tank found us. We had to take care of it quickly before he tattled to the rest of the local force."

"What kind of tank?"

"I dunno. Probably one of our old '783s. It had a railgun, though, so they're most likely modifying our old shit with the new stuff their big brother's giving them."

"Yeah, okay. We going to hit this convoy or what?"

"You boys seem ready. 'Ere we go!" Hallows said as he started up the engine.

Moments later, they were on the road and heading north.

"The convoy is about 10 miles out." Harper said.

"Hallows, there's Kappa Five and Theta, get in formation!" Faraday said.

"Yes, sir."

Shortly after, Harper's radar display began flashing. "Shit, enemy gunship inbound! K-5 Wraith!" Harper exclaimed.

"Is our missile shield active?" Faraday asked.

"Yeah!"

The Wraith fired a volley of missiles at the convoy of JLTVs, each and every missile being intercepted by the shield.

"Damn it, we need that Wraith destroyed!" Faraday said. "Kappa Six, can you destroy that Wraith?!"

"Hold on, I'm trying to climb into the back!"

Faraday watched as Calhoun, now in the trunk of the lead JLTV, opened the rear hood and leaned out with his rocket launcher. The Wraith fired another volley of missiles, again being intercepted by the missile shield. The Wraith followed up with a burst of cannon fire, destroying the reat JLTV with the rest of Theta in it.

"I'm locked on, firing!"

Alex looked back and saw the Wraith out his window, and watched as the missile streaked towards the vehicle. The missile detonated in the air beside the Wraith, destroying one of its main engines and causing the aircraft to lose control.

"Enemy aircraft is down!" Calhoun yelled into the radio.

"Good work." Faraday replied.

They continued to drive at top speed, getting ever closer to the convoy.

"Convoy is five miles out!" Harper called out.

Minutes later, they gained visual contact.

"Visual contact, four supply trucks and a BTR-2M!" Faraday called out.

"Why are they stopped?"Omar asked through the radio.

"They must be refueling from that gas station over there. We have a perfect opportunity here. Harper, footmobiles near the IFV, let 'em have it!" Faraday said.

"Yes, sir!" Harper replied. He pressed the red button on his joystick, firing the machinegun. The soldiers instantly retaliated and fired their various firearms at the JLTVs to no avail.

"Get out, secure the vehicles!" Faraday shouted. Alex jumped out, immediately spraying a target with his SCAR-11. He quickly took cover behind a dumpster, then fired at two soldiers running for the BTR, presumably the operators. Alex looked left and watched as Calhoun fired his third and final rocket at the BTR, destroying the vehicle before anyone else could access the weapons.

"Good job!" Alex called out.

Alex reloaded his SCAR-11 and shot a few bursts at the remaining enemy soldiers, watching as his other squadmates gunned them down.

"Clear!" Abbot shouted.

"Area secure!" Hallows added.

"Alright, Kappa, search those trucks! Pyle, Hallows, get in our trucks and park 'em next to theirs."

"Yes sir!" the rest of the men responded. Alex ran over to the middle truck and searched it. It was mostly filled with ammo and guns, more specifically Krylov F-2 rifles. "Sir? Not much in this truck. Ammo and several dozen Krylov rifles. A few Type 7 Frag grenades."

"Alright. We'll blow it." Faraday said, as he unveiled red tape, which he used to mark the spots where RDX would be placed.

Alex next joined Omar as he searched the lead truck. "Found anything interesting, Omar?"

"Yeah. I found quite a few gallons of fuel. I figure we should take that. Also found a plane ticket to Mexico, and one from mexico to back Home. Seems like someone's trying to get into the US."

"Did they have a name?"

"Yeah. Richard Spitz."

"I wouldn't be surprised if one of those guys was him." Alex said, pointing to the numerous bodies of West American soldiers that littered the parking lot.

"Can you keep searching the truck? I gotta tell the cap'n about this."

"Yeah, no problem." Alex said, as Omar walked off.

Alex searched the truck's cabin, eventually finding a locked briefcase under the passenger's seat. "Hmm..." alex said to himself as he tried to open the briefcase. It was locked. "Damn."

He got out and walked up to Faraday. "Sir!"

"Yes, Simmons?" Faraday asked.

"I found this. it's locked." Alex said, holding up the briefcase to Faraday.

"Let me see." Faraday said. He inspected the case for a second, then grabbed Alex's XD pistol and fired at the lock, breaking it.

"What was that?!" Hallows shouted.

"Don't worry about it. We had to break something." Faraday replied, calming Abbot down. He then opened the briefcase.

"What the hell?" Faraday remarked, as he pulled out a folder containing files. "Project Thor? KV-55?"

"Damn." Alex said.

"Here. Take the files." Faraday said.

"Wait. There's a hidden compartment." Alex replied.

"Hmm." Faraday said, He opened the hidden compartment of the briefcase. Alex's heart froze.

Inside the compartment were two Type 7 grenades. He presumed that Faraday had activated them by opening the compartment.

"SHIT, GET BACK!" Faraday screamed. Alex got to his feet and quickly ran away as fast as he could. Faraday wasn't as quick or lucky.

The grenade detonated, knocking Alex over but otherwise leaving him unharmed. However, Faraday's right leg had nearly been blown clean off and he was severely injured.

Alex couldn't help but stare at Faraday, who was laying on the ground in an increasingly large pool of blood and without a leg.

He finally worked up the voice to scream "MEDIC!"


End file.
